


In One Sphere

by AngryKoala



Category: Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works, Shakespeare - History Plays, The Hollow Crown (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryKoala/pseuds/AngryKoala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Musical Theatre!AU where Hotspur is a hard working and focused performer auditioning for the lead role in "Sunday in the Park with George". His rival, Hal, never takes anything seriously, but somehow still manages to wow everyone with his talent. Hotspur has had enough of Hal's bragging, and for the first time ever, he is successful in getting Hal to shut the hell up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In One Sphere

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, and it is exceedingly silly. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope that someone out there will enjoy reading it. I hope to write more in the future and possibly a canon compliant (or at least more so than this) Hotspur/Hal story.

Harry Percy had been preparing for weeks. It seemed to have paid off, because he was currently sitting in a narrow hallway outside of a little rehearsal studio, waiting to be summoned in for the final round of callbacks for the role of George in the Steven Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George at Plantagenet Repertory Theatre. It was down to Harry and Hal Monmouth, the director's darling tenor. 

"You seem like you are on another planet lately. You are always with your voice coach. Is your voice coach your new bestie? Have I been replaced? You never text back. Who am I supposed to send cat pics to at 3am, if not you? Text me back, bitch, or I'll have to cut you!" Kate Mortimer, an actress often employed at Plantagenet Rep, and Harry's best friend since their conservatory days, threatened him playfully, wielding a character shoe as a weapon. 

"I've just been busy Kate. I don't need any distractions. Now is not the time to text cat pics at 3am. I really want this part. 'Not While I'm Around' is a difficult piece both vocally and as an actor. I needed to get it right. It's got to be exactly the right amount of creepy." Harry was clearly un-phased by Kate's concern, and even less so her shoe. 

"Honestly I don't know why you wouldn't tell me that was what you were preparing. I've always liked that song."

"I just didn't want him to find out my audition piece beforehand and then steal it. He would do that. He is completely without scruples." Harry whispered, nudging his head in Hal's direction. 

"Scruples aren't the only thing he's lacking." Kate's eyes were on Hal, whose under eye circles could be seen from the other side of the hall. "He looks like he hasn't slept since last week. I can't imagine he would just magically have your super-secret audition piece in his back pocket, waiting for the opportunity to show you up. He's not really that evil and crafty. He's just a director's pet. And that's what he wears to an audition? Really? He looks like he rolled out of a dumpster into a pile of glitter. I'd also be willing to bet that stupid leather jacket reeks of cigarette smoke. He was probably out again last night with that drag queen friend of his, and he didn't even change. How on earth does he keep getting cast?"

Owen Glendower, a character actor and aging hippy, chimed in "He's got some kind of supernatural force on his side. I'm convinced. I saw him leaving a voodoo shop last week. He probably has a voodoo doll of Bolingbroke. That's how he stays in his good graces." 

"It's always something woo-woo with you, Owen." Said Harry. "Can't it just be that some assholes have all the luck?" 

"Nah. It's usually the woo-woo. Have I told you about the time that my spiritual adviser cleansed my aura and then I got cast as Jesus in Godspell?"

"Yes. You've told everyone on earth that story. You will not shut up about it. You've sung it from hilltops. You've shouted it in valleys. You've mentioned it in every press interview for the show. My great aunt Agnes is aware of your squeaky clean aura." Harry mockingly waved his hands in the air "We all know you were Jesus. We were there. Could it not have been that they thought you were right for the part and your $125 aura cleansing was entirely superfluous?" 

"Whatever dude. Ain't nobody gonna cast some jackass with a dirty aura as Jesus." 

Kate laughed. "It depends on if we are talking Godspell or Superstar. To get Superstar I would think a $150 aligning of the chakras would be more beneficial." She teased. 

"You people are ridiculous. If hard work and training mean nothing in the way of getting cast, then I guess I picked the wrong career. I'd rather eat glass than neglect and abuse my instrument like some people" Harry said, with his eyes angrily fixed on Hal, who was lounging against a wall on the other side of the hall looking entirely too relaxed for Harry's liking. 

“‘your instrument'." Owen mocked, in an overly dramatic voice, drawing out all the vowel sounds for full effect. "Yeeesh. Please never use that phrase again, or I'll have to humanely end you. Relax. We know you've been working hard on whatever it is you've been working hard on, but all work and no play makes Hotspur a very dull boy." He said, in a tone of mock concern. 

Harry groaned at his nickname. He was aware he's earned a reputation for his temper. It was really that he just couldn't stand unprofessional behavior, and there might have been that one time he threw a water bottle at someone for the crime of using the Bosendorfer grand piano as a place to set his beverage. ...but really who could blame him? The nickname was irritating; no matter how it came to be. 

"I heard that Bolingbroke was getting fed up with His Majesty's antics on their last show together. He may be the director’s pet for now, but I don't believe anyone like that can maintain a real career." 

Richard Vernon, a regular member of dance choruses in past seasons at Plantagenet Rep, butted into the conversation which he had clearly been listening to the whole time. "Harry, you are kind of obsessed with him. Maybe you need to put your raging hate boner back in your pants and objectively observe that Hal is really talented. His voice is pretty much flawless. Maybe he works on it more than you know." Harry began to interject his opinion on this matter but Richard was having none of that, and held up his hand "AND! And he's really good looking. Downright gorgeous, if you can look past the whole parties with drag queens and smells like an ash tray persona he has going. Don't you roll your eyes at me! Bitch please, I know you are looking."

"I'm getting nauseated listening to this." Harry replied "I don't care how good looking you think he is. At the end of the night one of our names will appear at the top of the cast list. I've just been doing all I can to ensure that it is mine." 

"Harry Percy! Hal Monmouth!" A man's voice called out, indicating it was time for the final call back for the role of George. 

"This is the moment of truth. If I end up playing Louis, I will at least know that I gave that fucker a run for his money." 

His friends wished him broken legs, except for Kate, who told him "don't suck." They'd been telling each other to avoid sucking instead of breaking limbs since the time that Kate actually did break her ankle at a dress rehearsal. 

"If I suck, may I suck gloriously." 

Both actors entered the little studio. Harry tried to pay as little attention to Hal as possible. He was here to sing the shit out of this cut and get the part. His grudge, or as Richard had called it, raging hateboner was completely irrelevant. 

The studio was set up with a table on the side opposite the mirrors. Behind the table sat 4 bored looking men, Bolingbroke, the director, being the most familiar. In the far corner was an upright piano, attended by the usual accompanist. 

The two men stood side by side with about 10 feet between them. Hal's expression and posture were more relaxed than Harry's cultivated "look-at-me-being-a-professional" stance. Harry had spent more time than he would be willing to admit practicing this in the mirror. He knew exactly how he looked even with the studio mirror at his back. He was almost positive that Hal had never taken so much time to observe and perfect his physicality for an audition. Maybe for a new hair style or the exact right pair of pants for a Saturday night outing with that always inebriated drag queen Falstaff, but never for an audition. 

One of the unfamiliar bored looking men spoke up "Henry Monmouth, you will sing the cut first, then you Henry Percy. Then we'll be done and the cast list should be up shortly." He said without actually looking up from the papers he was reading. 

Harry really hated that by some stroke of particularly bad luck, his mother had given him the same proper name as this twatwaffle. It only served to highlight the rivalry between them. 

"Whenever you are ready Hal." Said Bolingbroke, who had worked with both actors before and knew their preferred nicknames well. 

Hal took a breath and nodded to the accompanist as to indicate that he was ready. The intricate music to a 32 bar cut of "Finishing the Hat" began to play and Hals voice soared effortlessly. Each note rang out like a bell. Sondheim's words were crisp and clear. His presence lit up the room and seemed to bounce off the back wall and bring the whole room into the world of the character Hal was at that moment. It was truly something to behold.

Fuck. This. Douche. Harry thought as he listened to the last bar of the cut. No one deserved to be able to perform like that and go around behaving like a drunken assclown.

"Thank you." Hal spoke and stepped back to give the attention of the bored men, as it were, to Harry. 

Harry smiled at the the table of men, and nodded to the accompanist and again the music started. He hit every note with careful precision, and enunciated every one of the many consonants of this particularly wordy piece. It was technically masterful but Harry knew that he lacked the effortless quality and innate talent of his rival. He still put everything he had into singing about Finishing the Hat. He related to the character of George. A workaholic through and through. He was determined to finish the hat, even at the expense of everything else that mattered to him. If anything else did, in fact, matter to him. 

The last bar of music played and Harry Thanked the table of men, and left the room, quickly followed by Hal. 

 

Kate was still waiting in the hall, although her call backs for the part of Dot were already over, she was anxiously waiting to see the cast list go up. She gave Harry a face that said "well?" But Harry shrugged and headed to the small locker room at the end of the hall to collect his thoughts. 

He was not 2 minutes alone before Hal came intruding. 

"I saw you come in here. I just wanted to tell you that you did really well. You are better for George than I am in truth. I could act it, but you wouldn't really have to. It's really too bad that we can't both get it."

Harry had to fucks to give about playing nice. 

"Yeah. I'm sure you do really wish that." 

"I do actually. It's really a shame that I'll be getting all the credit and glory and applause at curtain call, when you were better for it. Everyone knows how hard you work. It's just too sad that you'll be stuck as Louis for the rest of your life." Apparently Hal had taken Harry's cue and started acting the part of an arrogant sarcastic ass. If he was, in fact, acting. It was so hard to discern with someone like Hal. 

"God. You are such an obnoxious twat Monmouth. If your head was any more inflated you would float away." and no one would hear his stupid angelic voice or see his annoyingly perfect smile ever again. 

"It's only the truth Harry. I like you. You seem like you could be a decent guy if you got that much needed anal stickectomy, but there really isn't room for both of us at one theater, and at the end of the day, it will always be me." 

"I am so fucking sick of listening to you talk." He inched closer to Hal in exasperated aggression. 

"Oh? Yeah? Want to stop me?" Hal took another step forward, still looking as smug as ever. He was almost nose to nose with Harry, looking him straight in the eye. Harry's blood was boiling. 

"...Oh god yeah" Harry whispered under his breath as he pushed Hal into a row of lockers and kissed him hard on the mouth. 

He kissed back. More. Harder. Kisses that were strangely similar to punches in the face. He did smell of an ash tray, but Harry did not, at this moment, care about that or anything else. Not the auditions. Not the fact that Hal's hand were starting to wander...

But then they heard the door open. They both nearly jumped out of their skin trying to put distance between them and catch their breath and perhaps regain their sanity. 

Kate's voice called out "THE CAST LIST IS UP!"

Hal darted through the door without another word. 

"What are you doing in the men's locker room?" Harry asked, acutely aware that his face was flushed and his hair a mess. How did this glitter get there?

"I was looking for you. But the real question here is what were YOU doing in the men's locker room?" Kate raised her eyebrows. 

"I don't have time for this Kate. Cast list. Now." Harry headed quickly out of the locker room and down the hall.

"Don't think you are getting out of giving me full details! Later. Text me back you nasty whore!" Kate yelled at him from several paces behind as she tried to catch up.

When they got to the bulletin board Hal was already there staring at the white sheet of paper with two parallel rows of names. His expression was blank, unreadable. He moved out of the way, so as to give the others a closer looks. 

"George Surat - Henry Monmouth" Harry read off. Further down the list he spotted his own name by "Louis". Of course. After this whole experience he didn't know how to feel. Disappointed? Definitely. Angry? Yes. Probably. Maybe. What had just happened? Did it change anything? Is this real life?

He turned to expressionless, confused looking, Hal and said "Congratulations asshole."

"Thank you. Really. Just...Thank you." He seemed to momentarily let down the confident facade of always knowing the script of life ahead of time. He seemed to really be at a loss for words. 

Words were not really Harry's strong suit either.

"Go fuck yourself."

Harry Percy smiled and gave Hal a small wink as he picked up his bag and walked away.


End file.
